The engine light came on a few blocks from the club. There were no abnormal sounds, and it didn’t feel any different. She drove the last few blocks to work and parked the car in the back lot. All the other gauges were fine, and she gave the interior a sniff to see if there was any smoke or burning smell. Still nothing.
The car was new enough that it shouldn’t be happening, but the warning light was there just the same. Blair turned off the car and got out. One more thing to worry about later. She grabbed her suitcase full of her gear and headed into the club.
Club 205 wasn’t the biggest or the cleanest strip club in the area, but they did a robust business. Especially on Friday nights. The swing shift on Friday nights was highly sought after, and the competition was fierce. It took Blair awhile before she secured a spot, but now that she had it, she would fight tooth and nail to keep it. Fridays paid the bills. Blair nodded to the doorman and wheeled her case into the club and headed for the changing room.
She said hi to a few of the girls who had become her friends, and ignored the few that weren’t. The nature of their work could be looked at as competition, and some of the other dancers took it too seriously. Most of them tried to be friendly about it. They were all in the same boat, trying to get by, half way between where they were and where they wanted to be. The mean girls never lasted too long anyway. Men could sense a heartless bitch, and subconsciously tipped less. Eventually the dancer would blow up, leave in a huff, damning all the cheap basters who never paid what she was worth.
Blair didn’t mind the men. Well, most of them anyway. Drunks were ok, and you just pushed their hands away and moved on. The sober ones who did it on purpose were worse, because they knew exactly what they were doing. Those customers she avoided until they got the hint and left. Every now and then there was a mean guy, hurt by somebody else, looking to pass it on. That’s what the bouncers were for. Those ones didn’t come back.
Blair got her outfit on and then closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. She wanted to put herself in a good frame of mind. Happy, friendly, flirty; those were the keys to success. Cheery meant cash, and fun meant funds. It was still hard to walk out that door and into the room, even after all this time. It did get easier, but she still thought about it every time.
Every woman in the room complained about some part of themselves. Too fat, too skinny, small boobs, bad hair, butt dimples. One of her friends always complained about a small scar on her shoulder, but had the biggest boobs of any of the dancers. Blair told her more than once that men didn’t even know she had shoulders with boobs like that. The reassurance fell on deaf ears. To her, a flaw was a flaw.
Blair was a little too tall. Most nights it didn’t bother her, but sometimes she envied the tiny elf girls who moved around with such pixie grace and speed. She felt like she was too slow and lumbering sometimes, but it was not something she dwelled on. Growing up she played sports and her body was tanned and toned. She definitely preferred that to the twiggy stick figure some of her coworkers had. Most men wanted meat on their bones. With a smile on her face, she headed out onto the floor to see how soon she was up.
The club had two stages, front and back. For some reason most of the customers and money gravitated towards the front stage. All the girls rotated through both stages in a pattern, depending on how many girls were dancing that night. If ten girls were working, and each set was four minutes, then you only got on the main stage every forty minutes. That was your time to shine, and to work the rail. The more people you had sitting down, the better your rake would be. It also meant you had to move faster, going from person to person. Everyone wanted their few seconds of interaction, and customers would feel jilted if you never got to them. It didn’t matter that they got to sit three feet away from you naked for two songs, they wanted their moment.
The stage is also where you advertised for lap dances later. Men could see you walking around the room, strutting your stuff, but the stage is where you really got to show off. You danced, twisted and twirled. You made eye contact, and you smiled. That is what got you the private dances later.
When Blair’s name was called, she headed for the main stage, and climbed into the octagon. She stashed her purse off to the side, and wiped down the pole in the middle. Not everyone did, but she always did. As soon as the music started Blair took in her fish. The men sitting around the rail were the fish, and Blair was fishing. You needed to hook them, and then reel them in. Friendly enough to separate them from their hard-earned money, but fast enough to hit them all by the end of the song. She only had three this time, and tried not to groan in frustration. Only three fish on her fist dance on a Friday night?
There Bolu Escort was a younger couple sitting together, and a lone guy off to the right. She started with the couple since there were two of them, with money in front of each. She spoke to them, laughed with them, and then straddled the woman’s lap. She was drunk and happy, and immediately started slapping her ass.
“Gentle!” Blair called out over her shoulder.
The woman did ease up a bit, but was very handsy the whole time. Blair moved back to the pole and danced for them and shook her ass. She spun around the pole once and headed for the guy now. He was older than her, but had a good smile on his face. He moved his drink for her and she laid down on the bar in front of him with her face near his face. She was about to ask her standard question of ‘how’s your night going’ when he spoke first.
“I would have been gentler,” he said.
His quick comment made her smile even brighter. He had a good voice that was both low and masculine. Those eyes though, they were something. Warm deep eyes that not only watched her, but saw her. You could feel them looking into you. Blair forged ahead with her script.
“How’s your night going?” she asked, arching her body so he could look at more of her.
“It got a lot better about five minutes ago,” he said honestly.
Blair had heard every line before, because there were only so many. This was one of her favorites though, and especially when it was offered quickly and honestly.
“That’s my favorite answer!” she said and smiled.
“Mmmmm,” he mumbled, deep in his throat.
“I may just follow you around all night like a puppy, I might even follow you home,” he said.
Those eyes had some heat too. Blair was long past the point where she got aroused at work. Her work was just a job. Still, every now and then, there was a hint of something. An echo her body seemed to hear and remember.
“I might just let you,” Blair said, before standing up and continuing her routine.
She moved around, made some eye contact in the room, but kept glancing back at that guy. He was always looking. It was the good kind of look too. Not leering, not creepy, and not the mouth breather type. This was warm and appreciative. She finished the song and moved around to gather her money. When she got to the lone guy, she leaned forward to get closer to that smile.
“Thank you,” she said, opening the door for him to keep talking.
“It’s been a long time since I was here, how much is a lap dance?” he asked softly.
He was cute, she decided. His boyish charm was genuine. She gave him one of her dazzling smiles and said it all in a rush.
“A lap dance is $40 for one song, or three songs for $100,” Blair said quickly.
“Ouch,” he said, “um, I would love to, really, I just need to wait a little while,” he said.
Most men balked at the price, but some of them took it right away. She found herself wanting to dance for him. She wanted to get behind that curtain with him.
“What if I took your hand and just dragged you with me?” Blair said softly.
Now the color came up in his cheeks for the first time. Embarrassed and cute.
“Then I would probably let you,” he said.
He looked back over to the table where his friends sat and let out a heavy sigh.
“I am going to have to wait a little bit, but I would love to…” he trailed off looking into her eyes.
“I would love to,” he said with more certainty.
He sounded like a nice guy. Blair patted his hand and went back to collecting her money. Not bad for the first set of the night. A few fish from other tables had come over and tossed money into her pit. She watched the nice guy get up and walk back to his friends.
He was short. This made Blair smile for a completely different kind of reason. She knew she was beautiful. She knew she attracted attention from all kinds of guys. She understood she had power over men even if she didn’t always understand why. Short guys though, short guys had it bad. They looked at her like drowning men. She could see it in their eyes. That is probably what she saw in his eyes, the short guy longing. Nothing more.
Blair went into the changing room for her next outfit, and walked around the club. She made eyes where she could, and fished. She knew where he was sitting by now, and whenever she looked, he was looking back. She smiled back each time, and could feel her body responding. It made her body warm, and she still didn’t know why. Blair worked the room until she was called to dance on the back stage. By the time she got there, he was just sitting down.
Blair turned her back to him and cleaned the pole while she wiggled her butt. She knew he was staring at her, they all did. This felt different. Blair looked over his shoulder and he was watching. His eyes seemed to pull a string that was attached to her, and her nipples hardened to points. The music started, and Blair started to dance.
Again, there Bolu Escort Bayan were only a few people at her table, but she made the rounds and talked to each of them. Each time she passed him, she tried to give an extra wiggle, and a bright smile. While she was posing in front of him, she asked what he did.
“I’m a writer,” he said.
“Oooo a writer, what would you write about me? How would you describe me?” Blair asked, moving her body in front of him.
“Beautiful, graceful, lithe, stunning,” he said.
“Lithe?” she questioned.
“It means nimble, flexible, supple,” he said.
“Oh,” Blair said, thinking about it. She was too tall to be lithe.
“I definitely want to write about you. You make me want to write,” he said.
This set was over way too soon and they didn’t have much of a chance to talk. As she collected her money, he thanked her again, and asked for her name. He had missed it earlier.
“Blair” she said, taking his hand again, “what’s yours?”
“Robert,” he said, holding her hand.
“Will you come back and see me next Friday Robert?” Blair asked, looking at those eyes and that smile. She wanted to see them again.
“I certainly want to, so I’ll try,” he said.
“I’d like that,” Blair said, feeling her belly tighten.
He went back to the table with his friends while Blair picked up the money and put herself back together. As soon as she was done, she headed straight for him. Standing in front of him she leaded down until they were eye to eye.
“Are you ready for me now?” she whispered.
He didn’t stand a chance.
He nodded once and Blair reached out and took his hand. She led him back to the VIP area and into one of the curtained sections. She had him sit down and then moved to stand between his legs. She leaned down and got her lips near his neck.
“How many songs do I get?” she said, her hot breath on his neck, making him shiver.
“Just one I’m afraid,” he said, already disappointed.
“How much money do you have?” Blair asked, cutting through all the bullshit now.
“Sixty,” he said, closing his eyes and tipping his head back, “and it’s all yours.”
“I know,” she said, as the music started.
Blair worked him over for two straight songs. Sitting in his lap, nuzzling his neck, grinding on his leg, hands on his shoulders. She took her top off after the first song, not surprised to see how taunt her nipples were. She was enjoying this almost as much as he was. When he looked at her and smiled at her she felt it between her legs. Blair wanted to keep him here, keep them secluded where it was just the two of them. Unfortunately, she was still at work. As they made their goodbyes Blair asked what kind of writer he was.
“I’m an author, with four published books,” he said.
“Seriously?” she asked, not really believing it.
“Yea, here is my card,” he said, taking one out of his wallet and handing it over to her.
“You can look up my name later if you want, and there is a blurb about each book in the series,” Robert said.
“I just may do that,” Blair said.
“My phone number is one the back of the business card,” he said blushing, “in case you need me for anything.”
“In case I need you?” she repeated.
“Well, if you bought a book, you want me to sign it don’t you?”
“Oh, ok,” Blair said. He thought fast on his feet.
They made their goodbyes and Robert and his group left shortly after that. She had tossed the business card into her purse and didn’t give it another thought until much later.
The bouncer walked Blair out to her car after her shift and made sure she got in safely and the car was started before he waved and walked away. Blair was relieved to see the engine warning light was off as she didn’t have the time or the money to deal with it right now. She pulled out of the lot and headed for home.
Ten minutes later her car made a sound and the dashboard engine light came on instantly. Blair was only half way home, and not close to anything open. It was half way between late night and early morning. She would have to keep driving the car until she found something open because there was nothing around her now. It was not a bad part of town, but it was deserted. The area was mostly closed businesses and warehouses.
The car made another foreign sound and seemed to turn off. Blair had to fight to get the car off to the side of the road and out of the lane of traffic. She came to a stop right in the middle of nowhere.
“That’s just fucking great!” she said out loud, and then cussed while she dug out her phone. She didn’t know that many people, and the list of one’s willing and able to help her out in the middle of the night was very small. She called her best friend first but that call weight straight to voicemail. She called another friend and it rang and rang but was never picked up. She had one more person to try and that number was busy. Busy! At two in the morning! What the hell was Escort Bolu she doing at two in the morning? Blair leaned back and decided to wait a few minutes and then call the number again. She was organizing her purse when she pulled out the business card for the author. She had just finished reading the card when a junker black truck did a slow drive by her car.
The same car drove back the other way about five minutes later, with several occupants watching her as they passed. Blair tried her friend one last time and the number was still busy. She was running out of time and options when she looked at the business card again.
Robert was lying in bed but not quite asleep when his phone rang. It was not a number he recognized. No good news could come from a phone call at two in the morning. He debated not answering it, but knew he would in the end. People calling in the middle of the night needed help, and he would help. He was that kind of guy. If he waited until morning the problem would likely be worse. He answered the phone on the second ring.
“Hello?”
“Robert, this is Blair, from the club, Club 205,” she sounded much less confident than she had earlier.
“I remember you,” Robert said, smiling into the phone.
“I uh… need you,” Blair said softly.
“I don’t know what to say,” Robert said, laying back and closing his eyes. He remembered how she felt against him, and how she smelled. It was a bottle of heaven that he could never get enough of.
“My car broke down and these guys keep driving back and forth,” Blair said, sounding panicked.
“Where are you?” Robert demanded, jumping out of bed.
“On Powell, near 160th,” she said.
“Five minutes,” he said into the phone, “keep your doors locked, if that truck comes back call me or 911 if you need to. I’m on my way,” he said and the phone went dead.
Blair closed her phone and let out a breath. That was nice of him to help her. If he could just give her a ride home that would be great. Headlights came up behind her and the car pulled over right behind her. It was the same shitty black truck, and four men climbed out.
They were Hispanic, not that it mattered, but it made her feel less safe. The first thing one of the guys did was try and open her door. That felt too forward and a bit scary. Another man was trying to open the passenger door but that was also locked. One of the men outside her driver’s door was trying to talk to her, but he was speaking Spanish. The second man was knocking on the window motioning for her to open the door. Blair looked at her phone again to check the time. The person on the passenger side hit the window with his palm and it was very loud from inside the car. Instead of trying to talk to her he was yelling. The man on the driver side made a fist and hit the window on her side making Blair jump.
She picked up her phone and was trying to decide if she should call 911 or Robert. There was a vehicle approaching from the other way at a high rate of speed. The group of men surrounding her truck stopped beating on the windows and were waiting for the car to pass. It didn’t.
The approaching car turned out to be a white truck that was flying. It raced down the street until the last minute and then cut across both lanes to jam on the brakes and come nose to nose with Blairs car. The lights in her eyes made it hard to see, and Blair was hoping it was her rescue.
The driver jumped out and walked to the front of the truck. All she could discern from the shadow was it was a short guy, and Blair almost choked with relief. The men on both sides of her car started to move forward and yell at the same time at the new intruder. She could only see the silhouette in the headlights, but it was clear and obvious when he drew the gun from somewhere.
The men approaching him stopped, as did the yelling. Robert yelled something back that she couldn’t hear, but it had the desired effect. The men backed up, two on each side of her car. They piled back into the black truck and it sped off in the opposite direction. Blair was too scared to move now, and just sat and waited. She saw the silhouette re-holster the gun and then walk up to her window.
His face was hard at first but then softened into a smile when he saw her sitting there. Blair had tears in her eyes but unlocked the door and jumped out. She crashed into him and held on tightly as he held her back.
“Thank you, thank you for…thank you,” Blair mumbled as she held him.
“You’re welcome,” he said, holding her.
They tried jumper cables on the car to no avail, and so Robert offered her a ride home. Blair got all of her belongings out of her car and locked it up for now. She climbed into his truck and gave directions to her place. Blair was talking and rambling on the way home, her stress finally coming out. She was talking about her car and thanking him every few sentences.
“Stop thanking me, I was happy to help,” he said.
They rode in silence for a while before Blair asked him something.
“What did you say to them to chase them off? I heard you yell, but could not hear what it was,” she asked.
“I told them…” he paused, looking at her face, “you belong to me.”
“I belong to you?” she asked, skeptically.